Rani Barnes, the daughter of Bucky Barnes, was raised in the shadows of Hydra-trained to hunt, obey, and survive. Now 19 and rescued from that life, she's thrown into a quiet existence she doesn't understand, living with a father still grieving the...
Before we begin, I just want to say thank you so much for the 20k reads. I never knew this story would get this much attention. I hope you're satisfied with Rani and her plot.
Be aware that the new 2 chapters are ready, actually the whole story is finished by now. But I want to see you getting excited for it, so please show your support by voting and commenting ~♡
Goals for the next chapter, 40 votes, 35 comments
Now there is a surprise in this chapter. You will find it at the end.
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The truck began to move.
Rani didn’t register when or how. It rumbled under her boots, a dull vibration that should have jolted her into presence—but her body remained still, heavy, distant. Like she wasn’t inside it at all. Her heart was louder than the engine. It sat in her chest like a stone. No, not like a stone—stones didn’t pulse. Stones didn’t ache.
She turned slowly, moving as if she were underwater, and sat down on the same narrow bench Bob had just vacated minutes ago. Her palms rested limply in her lap, still slightly curled, as if they hadn’t realized the guns were gone.
The bench was warm. Still warm from his body. That warmth, that tiny remnant of life, undid her more than the sight of his body falling.
She stared at her hands. They didn’t shake. They didn’t move. They were still like her face, like her mind, like everything inside her that refused to respond because it was too overwhelmed to process what had just been ripped away. Her breath was thin. It stayed caught somewhere in her ribs, where grief had taken up space and built a home.
And then—without warning—there it was.
Feeling.
It came over her like a tide she hadn’t seen coming. A wave so vast and so quiet it didn’t crash, it consumed. Slowly. Drowning her from the inside. She hadn't felt in so long. Not like this. Not real feeling. The kind that had weight. The kind that made your muscles ache because even your bones knew something had been lost.
